Back Before It All Began
by miss-eee
Summary: Set several years ago, explores the lives of those who live in Riverdale.
1. Chapter 1

In a small town by a river, in a small white house on the south side of town, lived a small family. An average family, the father worked as a mechanic, the mother worked as a waitress, trying to provide the best for their 3 blonde haired children. The oldest two, both boys, had graduated from college and moved away, leaving only the youngest, a daughter, behind. From the outside, they appeared to be like any other family, loving and kind. On the inside, the family was like any other family, loving and kind.

The town was different than what most would think, small enough to only have one high school, but large enough that the tracks created an unspoken barrier between both sides of town. Plagued as all small towns are, not much ever happened. Every day, the townspeople woke up, went to their jobs, and came back to their houses. There hadn't been a murder in over 15 years, and the biggest problem that the police department faced was keeping the local teens out of the woods by the river after dark- the local high school kids liked to use the area for bonfires and underaged drinking. Quiet and peaceful, some would call it the ideal place to grow up, to raise a family, to grow old.

But our story is not about the ideal town, or the average family. Our story is about a girl, who is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom at the top of the stairs, in the small white house, on the south side of town, in the small town by the river. In her closest, hung an array of satin spaghetti strap dresses, crop top's, and plaid skirts, but the crown jewel of her closet was the blue and gold cheerleading uniform- a prized possession as this year, she would sit atop the pyramid at Riverdale High. Her vanity was covered in small hair clips and modest makeup, her favorite a soft pink lip stain. The walls of her bedroom were covered in CD sleeves, magazine cut outs, posters of her favorite rock bands and her favorite pop stars. The small desk that sat by the window was littered in magazine cut outs and articles, her diary lay open to an entry from the day before.

 _Only one more year. I keep telling myself that, over and over again. Only one more year. This place is suffocating and stifling, I want a big city and bright lights, my name in a glossy print magazine. Only one more year…_

Her entry had been interrupted, her mother had called her to help with dinner. After dinner meant catching the latest episode of The X Files and laying out her clothes for the next day. Around 9PM, her best friend Hermione called to coordinate their outfits and go over their schedule for the next day one more time. The first day of their senior year of high school, and Hermione was insisting that everything was perfect. She had lost track of time, and fallen asleep, dreaming of the day to come tomorrow, and she almost didn't hear the soft knock on her bedroom window.

Her eyes danced as she opened the window, letting the boy that lived next door into her bedroom. His dark hair flopped in his face, his brown eyes took in her bathrobe as he pulled her in close in an embrace. They had spent the first 17 years of their lives living next door to each other, and overtime, their friendship had blossomed into something more. Their days were spent in a booth at the local diner, or snuggled together in the bed of his truck at the drive in, but every night, he climbed the ladder outside of her bedroom window, and snuck into her bedroom.

* * *

Delores Smith finished her shift at Pop's Chocklite Shoppe, and checked the time as she started her car. She was almost late. It was 5:55 when she pulled into her small white house on the southside of town, and she stepped carefully up the stairs to her youngest daughter's bedroom at the top of the stairs. She listened carefully for just a moment, not hearing any sound of movement. She hesitated, almost knocked, before deciding to push her away into the room on the other side of the door. What she found on the other side, startled her. Her youngest daughter, her will-be-valedictorian daughter, that would this year sit at the top of the pyramid, her perfect long blonde hair, splayed across the chest of a dark haired boy.

"Good morning, Alice." Her voice rang out into the quiet of the room, lacking its normal cheerful tone.

Alice sat up, a look of horror on her face, her light pink negligee falling off of her shoulder, glanced up to meet her mother's face.

"Mom, knocking would be nice."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you had company this morning. You need to get up, get ready, or you'll both be late. The first day of your senior year, you don't want to start off on the wrong foot."

The boy with the dark hair stirred slowly, his eyes fluttering to open and struggling to catch up with the conversation that was taking place before him. He sat up fast, reaching for the sweatshirt that he had discarded at the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, FP. Will you be joining us for breakfast?"


	2. Chapter 2

Alice Smith was tired of feeling trapped in a small town. _Only one more year._ She kept repeating to herself, one more year of high school, one more year of Riverdale, and she would be free of the towns' grasp. Free to move wherever she pleased, probably New York or Chicago, or maybe the west coast. Free to write political and environmental articles, instead of the gossip fluff that she wrote for the school paper. Free. _Only one more year._

As her mother slammed the door shut, she turned softly to the boy in the bed next to her. He had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, and they had carved out a little piece of happiness for themselves in this stifling perfect town. Climbing into her window every night felt like a little rebellion, something their parents and friends didn't know about, it was a secret kept only between them. He was the all-star athlete, Varsity football, basketball and baseball, and he played in a rock band with his best friend, calling themselves the _Fredheads._ When he walked down the hallway, his smirk putting the sun to shame, the crowds parted for him, everyone greeted him with a smile and a high five. She watched in silence as the other girls at the high school fawned over him, watching his dark, black hair falling in his face. She laughed as the girls would throw themselves at him, laughed as he flirted and toyed with their emotions, because she knew, no matter how many dates he went on, he always climbed in her window at night.

"Jones, I think we've been discovered." She whispered, leaning into his chest and laughing against his strong muscles, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She glanced up, meeting his eyes and marveling at how they danced as that smirk appeared across his face.

"She's going to be barring your window now. You'll have to sneak me in through the bathroom…" He laughed against her blonde hair, kissing the top of her head lightly.

It was chilly as she slipped out from under the blankets and the warmth of his arms, reaching for her bathrobe that she had discarded so easily the night before. She looked back, catching his eye as he leaned back against her pillows, his arms clasped behind his head. There was something sweet about their quiet moments alone in her bedroom, stolen moments that seemed gone too soon. Sure, their friends might suspect something, in the way they sometimes held hands in the hallways and the way she leaned against him in a booth at Pop's or curled along his side while they watched a movie at the drive-in. But the extent of their closeness was kept only between them, to the outside world they appeared only as best friends, the closest of friends.

Showered and teeth brushed, she wrapped the robe around her again, and padded lightly into her bedroom. His long, lean frame was gone from her bed, but she heard his laughter radiating up from the kitchen below. He was charismatic and enthralling, and as upset as her parents might be to find that the boy next door slept in their daughter's bedroom the night before, their voices joined in his laughter and she could only guess that he was regaling them with some story of football practice the day before. Her parents would never admit it, but she knew they were hoping that her and FP would end up together, the perfect tale of best friends turned high school sweethearts.

She stared at the outfit Hermione had helped her pick out last night over the phone, a pink, blue and khaki plaid skirt, a blue sweater and chunky brown clogs. She dried and brushed her long blonde hair out, securing pieces back away from her face, before stepping lightly down the stairs, and into the kitchen to join the conversation.

Her heart skipped when he looked up to meet her, that smile spreading across his face as he took her in. He wore the same pair of jeans he had worn yesterday, and the same plain black hooded sweatshirt he had picked up from the floor of her bedroom, and the memory of her pulling on the hem, pushing it up over his shoulders, sent shivers down her spine.

"Good morning, daddy. Mom." She said, as she slipped into the chair next to FP, reaching for the pitcher of orange juice. She sucked in a short breath when his hand slipped under the table and pressed into her knee, tracing patterns that reminded her of other places that same hand had pressed and traced the night before.

"Happy first day of senior year, you two. You'd better hurry up, take your toast to go, or you'll be late picking up Fred." Her mom placed a piece of toast on a napkin in front of both of them, handing them both a brown sack, that Alice could only assume contained a turkey sandwich, apple, bag of chips and a soda.

The pair slipped out the front door and went through their little routine- he held the passenger door to the rusty pickup open for her, she leaned over to open the his. They rode in silence for a few minutes, neither sure if being outed by her parents would change their secret relationship, but when he honked twice at a small blue house just on the other side of the tracks, she slid closer to him to make room for the third person, and his hand reached down to slip into hers. Fred Andrews, the lead singer of the _Fredheads_ , had a full head of light brown hair and didn't stop talking the entire way to the high school, oblivious to the change in status of the two next to him.

* * *

The truck pulled into a parking spot at the high school, dodging glances from underclassman as the infamous FP Jones slid out of the driver's seat. Hearts stopped all over the green grass that rolled up to the large brick building, and her eyes were fixed only on him. He reached up into the truck, grabbing her hand and helping to pull her out, catching her lips with his once she was firmly on the ground. One hand remained firmly gripped in hers, the other reached up to trail through her long blonde hair, lightly pulling her in closer to him. The campus had gone quiet, in awe of watching his arrival, but when she pulled away and glanced up to meet his eyes, that smile spreading across his face, she heard the murmurs, heard the voices, heard the gossip. _They're perfect. Finally. Alice Smith and FP Jones._

Walking up the cement steps, still hand in hand, Fred Andrews still talking and oblivious, everything seemed different, brighter, hopeful. Their last year at Riverdale High loomed ahead of them, only a year stood between them and freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

FP leaned against the lockers next to Alice, waiting patiently as she organized her books and checked her hair in the mirror. She turned to him, catching him staring at her with those dark eyes and that bright smirk, and leaned up on her toes to greet his lips with hers, lighter this time than their engagement in the parking lot had been. He sighed lightly when she pulled away, whispering into her hair, _"tonight,"_ he tugged lightly on her hand, dragging her off in the direction of their homeroom class. As they walked through the halls, hand in hand, the sea of students parted for them, whispers and stares as they walked past.

Her heart was aflame with this new development between them. In all of the years of their friendship and secret sleepovers, he had never kissed her in public, never publicly claimed her as his and only his. When they had reached their homeroom, he slid into the empty seat behind her, threading his fingers through her long hair that grazed over onto his desk.

Their little bubble that they seemed to be existing in was burst as soft heels clicked across the tile. Alice glanced up, catching a glaring look from a dark haired girl, wearing a pink sweater with a khaki, blue and pink skirt. Hermione Molina was a force, long raven dark hair flowing down her back, she was feared by the underclassman for her sharp wit and her sharp words. She and Alice had been best friends since grade school, and although Alice didn't consider herself a "mean girl", Hermione was the true definition of. Her outfits were always immaculate, never a dark hair out of place on her head. She preferred heels over flats, favored skirts over pants and insisted Alice couldn't wear pink- the color clashed with her bright blonde hair. Hermione came from money, her father owned an investment firm and her mother had a large trust fund, and they lived in a large house in a gated community on the outskirts of Riverdale.

"I've heard we have a lot to talk about, Smith." Hermione slammed her things down onto the desk next to Alice, startling FP, who stopped threading his fingers through Alice's hair, but froze holding a chunk of blonde in his fingers.

"Miss Molina, please treat school property with a little more respect. That desk didn't do anything to you." Hermione snapped her attention towards the front of the class as she slid into her seat, her glare turning from Alice and FP to their teacher, Ms. Anderson. "Welcome seniors! I'm sure you're all very excited about your last year at Riverdale High. This is not the year to slack off, regardless of what you may have heard. Your performance this year, or lack of, can drastically impact the course of your life outside of Riverdale High. Mr. Andrews- we've all heard about the gig your band is playing this weekend, why don't you help with passing out schedules, I'm sure if Miss Phillips wants to attend, she'll speak with you outside of class."

As Fred slid out of the seat next to FP, Alice turned her attention to the red-headed Mary Phillips, who had somehow managed to attract Fred's attention. She was tall and brazen, loud and outspoken, and the only person in the senior class that threatened Alice's claim to valedictorian. She rounded out the trifecta that was her and Hermione's friendship, and although the two weren't close as individuals, Hermione had taken the red-head under her wing when Mary Phillips moved to Riverdale the week before their freshmen year. Alice was stilled turned, staring at Mary, when Hermione's voice growled at her from the seat next to her. " _Lunch. You can't avoid..."_

Hermione stopped mid-sentence, spinning her attention around to the classroom door that had just slammed shut. Alice followed her glance, and the classroom fell silent, except for Fred, who stood in the middle of a row of desks, calling out a name.

"Ms. Anderson, there's a joke schedule in this stack. There's no _Hal Cooper_ in our class."

"That would be me." Alice felt her breath catch as she took in the sight of this stranger. Tall, broad shoulder, with sun kissed blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he filled the door frame in his dark wash jeans and black button up. "Sorry I'm late."

Behind her, FP twirled a strand of her hair, as if pulling her back into him, and she sighed lightly as this new Hal Cooper slid into the open seat on the other side of Hermione. _What an interesting year it would be._


	4. Chapter 4

Two months after school started, FP Jones was still climbing into Alice Smith's bedroom every night. He still had breakfast with her family every morning, still drove her to school every day. He still held her hand in the hallway, and kissed her before each class. After Riverdale's big win last Friday against Glendale, securing a playoff spot for the first time in 10 years, he had kissed her on the football field in front of the whole town. And yet, it was Thursday and the Homecoming dance was on Saturday, and FP still had not asked her. She laid in her bed, pulling the large white duvet up to her nose, and sank into the sheets. Her head was spinning, retracing the day's events.

 _She slid herself into the lunch seat across from Hermione, setting her brown bag down a little harder than she had intended. Hermione looked up from her Diet Coke, sensing Alice's frustration._

 _"_ _He still didn't mention it? Fred asked me this morning, maybe FP's waiting until after school?" Hermione flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, teasing and well aware of her words._

 _"_ _What." Mary turned towards Hermione, baffled by what she had just heard, "What do you mean, Fred asked you?"_

 _"_ _That's exactly what I mean. Fred Andrews asked me to the dance this morning." Hermione turned her attention back to her plate of food, picking at her carrots and ignoring Mary. "I think we should go shopping for dresses after school…" Her voice trailed off, the conversation about who had asked who, and who hadn't asked who, coming to an end as Fred Andrews and FP Jones slid into the seats next to the girls._

 _FP slid into the spot next to Alice, leaning in to kiss her on her cheek before sliding his hand under the table and reaching for hers. Her brown pleated skirt had slid up when she sat down, and his hand rested a little higher on her thigh. She squeezed his hand with her own, his thumb tracing circles on the back of hers. He didn't hide their relationship, he hadn't been out on any dates with other girls, but they still had not defined their relationship, or whatever it was that they were doing. Alice had told herself maybe there hadn't been the right time, but the more time that went by, the more she thought she was lying to herself. Every night, they were together. Every weekend, they were together. The only time they were apart, was during 6_ _th_ _hour when Alice worked on the Blue and Gold student newspaper, and for the few hours after school when Alice had River Vixen practice and FP had football practice. After practice, he would shower, eat dinner with his family, and then head over to Alice's to work on homework for a few hours, before leaving to go back home, and then climbing the ladder and sneaking back into Alice's bedroom. They had a little routine worked out, and although Alice was happy with how things were, she still wasn't sure what exactly things were._

 _Alice had to admit, she was dreading going dress shopping with Hermione and Mary, but after school, she climbed dutifully into the front seat of Hermione's black BMW convertible, tossing her bag in the backseat next to Mary. Things were tense in the car ride over to Glendale, Alice knew Mary was sure Fred would ask her to the dance, not Hermione. Hermione insisted it didn't matter who went with who, because the group had all planned to meet at Hermione's before heading to the dance together. But as much as Alice was hurt that FP hadn't asked her yet, she knew Mary was hurt as well. She wondered briefly if all friendships were like this, dictated by one person, the others just following along._

 _Hermione had picked a small dress shop in a neighboring town, and as usual, had laid out the rules for what Mary and Alice could and could not wear. No pink, no floor length, silver jewelry only. Alice dragged up and down the racks, pulling piece after piece only to be shot down by Hermione, before pulling a dark blue crushed velvet slip dress that hit mid thigh, so very different from anything that hung in Alice's closet. As she came out of the dressing room, her long blonde hair whirled as she spun around for Hermione and Mary, a collection of "yes's" and "perfect's" coming from her best friends mouths. She glanced in the mirror, imagining the look on FP's face when he saw her in this dress._

 _Mary had found a two piece crop top in dark emerald green that complimented her hair, and for once, Hermione had settled on a black silk slip dress. Whatever tension had been between the girls seemed to have shifted away, as they settled back into Hermione's car for the drive back to Riverdale._

 _"_ _Apparently FP and Fred invited Hal Cooper to go with us, too, so we can all be evenly paired off…" Hermione's voice trailed off, breaking the silence. Hal had managed to slide his way into their little group, he had become the football team's star kicker, and he worked on the Blue and Gold with Alice. He was born and raised in New York, his parents had moved here to open a small newspaper after his father had tired of writing for the New Yorker. They had a sizable house near downtown, and Hal drove a new Mazda coupe, clearly the newspaper business was doing well. For being a New Yorker, he wasn't rude, he smiled often at Alice when he caught her eye in the hall, and they had developed an odd friendship. He proof-read her articles before she submitted them, and she taught him about formatting and line spacing. She already knew Hal had been invited to join their group for Homecoming, they had talked about it earlier during 6_ _th_ _hour, when she mentioned FP still hadn't asked her. Maybe she was hoping Hal would drop a hint at FP, and remind him of what a good thing he had._

She glanced over at the clock on her shelf, it read 11:45. If he was coming, he was late. She pulled the sheets up closer, turned off her side table lamp, and closed her eyes. She must have drifted off to sleep, because she was startled awake by the sound of a boot hitting her dresser. She sat up, flipping on the lamp and noticed that the clock now read well after 2. FP slumped in the seat next to the window, struggling to pull the laces off his other boot.

"FP." Her voice came out almost as growl, her anger with him apparent. Not only had he failed to ask her to the dance, but now he was sneaking into her room much later than usual.

"Ali, I'm sorry. It's my dad." His voice was soft, Alice could see the pain in his face as she stepped closer to him.

"Your face. What happened? Have you been drinking?" She could smell his breath, a large gash right above his eyebrow matched the dark purple bruising forming on his face. "What's going on?"

"He's on me again about joining the Serpents, post-graduation plans he calls it. He wasn't too happy when I told him I wanted to be nothing like him…" his voice trailed off as Alice reached up to his face, her soft hands rubbing over the bruises as he winced.

"Sit down, I'll get something to clean up your eye." Glancing at herself in the mirror, her heart sank. FP's dad rode with the local motorcycle club, and they had started to get involved in some petty crime, running small drugs for a local dealer, small theft. She wondered how many times she could tell herself "small" before she realized that the things the Serpents were doing, were big. They were slowly changing the face of Riverdale, creating a divide in the town, since most of them lived south of the train tracks. _Just one more year-_ she reminded herself. One more year and they could both escape this town.

As she walked back into the room, bandages and peroxide in hand, she noticed a crumpled bunch of flowers tucked under the black hooded sweatshirt FP had discarded over her desk chair.

"Ali," he said, as she cleaned the cut around his eye, "I'm sorry I didn't ask you earlier, I didn't realize what a big deal this was to you. Will you go to the dance with me?"


	5. Chapter 5

After hours of pampering- a massage, mani-pedi, Alice Smith's hair was curled and her makeup flawless as she slipped into that dark navy dress, rounding out her look with these sky-high strappy black heels Hermione had loaned her. Fred and Hal had arrived about an hour ago, both looking surprisingly handsome in dark black dress pants, white button ups and simple black ties. They had sat and waited for a while for FP to show, before Hermione insisted they couldn't miss the entire dance, and had loaded the group into their cars and headed to the high school.

Alice's mind was still reeling from their conversation the other night, she knew FP's dad was pressuring him to join the Serpents, and she hoped that his lateness wasn't a result of them. Thinking of the cuts on his face and the bruise under his eye sent chills down his spine. He had always been such a leader, that falling in with the Serpents felt like the exact opposite. She felt a catch in her throat though, when they pulled into the school parking lot, and saw his truck sitting in its usual spot, with him still inside. She glanced to Hermione and Fred, nodding as she headed over in the direction of the rusted out truck, knocking lightly before pulling the passenger door open.

"Hey Ali." He didn't turn to look at her, but the street light illuminated his face, and she saw it again. More bruises.

"I'm worried about you. Maybe you should talk to Fred and see if you can stay there for a few weeks. Let's go to Pop's, blow off this dance." She reached her hand out to grab his, brushing against something cold and soft that sat in the middle seat.

"Alice Smith. Have you looked in the mirror lately? There's no way I'm not taking you in and showing you off, I just need a minute." He reached over towards the center console, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. _Well, this is a new development._ He cracked the window as he lit the cigarette, and Alice leaned her head against the side of the door, her arms crossed tight against her chest. Something had shifted, something was different. His carefree smirk was gone, he looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

As he took the last long drag from the cigarette, he opened the door and reached for her hand, pulling her across the truck towards him and catching her as her heels hit the ground. Something had gotten caught in her dress and had hit the ground. She bent down to pick it up, but his movements were faster. Soft and cold, hard and black, he threw it back into the truck without saying anything, but she had caught a glimpse of the bright green patch. _The Serpents._

He gripped her hand so hard her fingers tingled, like holding her was holding him together. They walked in silence together into the school, a _No Doubt_ song playing loudly called to them from the gym. He stopped, pulling her into his chest, catching her long blond hair with his free hand.

"I'm so sorry Alice. For everything. For not being a better boyfriend, for being late tonight, for the jacket…" His voice trailed off as he spoke, his forehead pressed against hers.

"Whatever it is, for right now, you are forgiven. That's the first time you've called yourself my boyfriend." Her voice was almost a laugh, and he pulled away from her gently. "But whatever it is, we're in this together. You and I."

He swiped his hand gently across her cheek, before grasping under her chin, ghosting his lips lightly across hers. "You and I." He said, so softly it was barely above a whisper, a soft smile smeared across her face as his lips pressed into hers. His hand still gripped firmly in her hair, he pulled her in even closer, brushing his tongue against her lips asking for entrance. What had started as a soft, sweet expression, was starting to feel desperate, grasping, needy.

He pulled back from her, her hand softly grazing the bruises that peppered his face. "One last night of normalcy?" His question seemed to carry so much more, something was changing, and not just their relationship status, but something had shifted, and maybe not just between them.

* * *

Alice spent the rest of the night entwined in the arms of FP Jones, dancing to every song, not even stopping to break for the punch that Fred had spiked with vodka. People had stared at the bruises on FP's face, but not even Fred or Hal had questioned him about what had happened. When the DJ announced the last song, Alice felt herself sink into FP's chest as he held her against him, some soft love song played but Alice wasn't paying attention to it. Their hearts beat as one, pushed so close together. One hand held her waist tight, the other hand twirled her long hair between his fingers. When she pulled back slightly, staring up into his dark gray eyes, he leaned down softly kissed her lips, and she felt herself sink further into his arms.

* * *

As the lights of the gym came back on, glaring brightly and pulling her back to reality, she felt like she was seeing FP's face for the first time, the gym lights showed more than the street lights had illuminated earlier. Her stomach twisted and her heart sank as she dusted her hands gently over his face, running her fingers along the bruises that outlined his cheeks, the dried blood above his eyebrow, the small smear that was almost hidden by his hairline. "We need to get you out of here before more people notice and start asking questions." She whispered into his ear, pulling his hand and leading them back out to the truck.

* * *

They rode in silence back to Alice's house, she curled herself up next to him in the middle seat, that dark, cold, black jacket shoved onto the floor on the passenger side. They walked hand in hand up the front steps, stepping softly through the front door. There was no need to hide from her parents, they were both well aware of the sleepovers that occurred between the two friends every night, but still, it was late, and Alice knew her parents wouldn't be happy if they were woken up.

She heard soft voices coming from the kitchen, watched as her mother stepped from around the corner.

"Alice, FP. We need to speak with you." Alice glanced up at the tall, dark haired boy next to her, her hand still grasped tightly around his, as she pulled him slightly down the hallway, into the kitchen. She felt like she was falling to the floor, when she saw, sitting at the kitchen table, her father and FP's dad, both wearing the same dark, black, leather jacket that sat on the floor of FP's truck.


	6. Chapter 6

"Dad, not tonight, please." His voice was pleading as he sat down at the table, not letting go of Alice's hand. His face looked pained, worried, the carefree smirk was gone.

"No, FP. This needs to end. It's out of our hands." Even though Alice had grown up with FP's dad, Forsythe, she was terrified of him. He was tall, broad shoulder, his presence commanded the room when he entered. FP had never had problems with his dad, before the last week or so, but mostly because he wasn't home much, he owned a bar not too far from their house, and spent long nights working there.

"Fors." Alice glanced up, a soft voice came from the kitchen as a small, raven haired woman entered the dining room. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, her long hair flowing down her back. FP's mother, Grace, was exactly that. She was quiet and soft spoken, and exuded an air of grace that Alice envied. She never raised her voice, always had dinner prepared promptly, and was always dressed impeccably, with the exception being tonight. Alice wasn't aware the women even owned a pair of jeans. "Please," she spoke again, as she set a cup of coffee down in front of her son, handing the cup in the other hand to Alice. "Let Dee and I speak with her, privately."

Alice's eyes darted around the room, she was so confused by the conversation that was taking place in front of her. Her mother moved to place her hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, taking note of the puffiness around her mother's eyes- she'd been crying.

"Grace." Forsythe's voice was harsh and rough, startling Alice almost, and she leaned closer into her mother.

"No, Forsythe. She's right. Let them speak with Alice, she'll listen to them." Alice was surprised at her father's response, he was not a confrontational person, but something in his tone of voice sent chills down her spine. Her mother reached for her hand, pulling her up from the table, away from FP. Grace lightly placed her hand on Alice's back, and the two women lead her away from the dining room, up the stairs, to the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

Alice sat down on the edge of her bed, still in her homecoming dress, and looked up at the two women in front of her, eyes full of questions. Her mother sat on the bed next to her, holding her arm, while Grace sat in the desk chair across from Alice.

Delores Smith spoke first.

"Things have changed in Riverdale. The Serpents were approached at the bar a few weeks ago, by a man from New York. He said he was looking for a half way point, between New York and Montreal. Someplace he could store things, a group of people he could trust…" Her voice trailed off, as if she wasn't sure what else to say.

"I'm not sure if you know, but the Whyte Worm has been suffering, as has the shop. Your father and Forsythe, are close to losing everything. They needed to do something, they needed to secure income for themselves, for you. They worked out a deal, that the Serpents would provide storage and man power, and help transport things from Riverdale to New York or Montreal, in exchange for enough money to keep both business afloat."

"I don't get it, what does this have to do with FP and I?" Alice's voice, so full of confusion and questions, shook as she tried to hold back tears.

"I'm so sorry, baby girl." Her mother stroked her hair, reaching for her hand as she continued to speak. "We need to put up a façade. The Serpents decided against keeping everything all at one location, and decided that if things were separated, between the bar and the shop, the police would be less likely to suspect anything. The Whyte Worm was chosen as official headquarters, since it's sort of already been. But the shop, has no known association with the Serpents, your father has never publicly declared his support for them, and if we can keep things that way, the townspeople will continue to take their work to your father. Since the Jones' are publicly declaring their support for the Serpents, we need to do the opposite. We need to publicly sever our ties with the Jones'."

There it was. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach, and the tears she had been fighting off, spilled out over her cheeks. ' _Publicly severed'._

"Everything will need to be believable. No late-night milkshakes at Pop's, no movies at the drive-in, no rides to school, no attending parties together, no lunches, no speaking at school. The two of you, are what will make this believable." Grace's voice was still soft, but sharper than Alice had ever heard it, but the look on her face told her these weren't the words she wanted to speak, but words that had been repeated to her, over and over.

"Does he know already?" Alice didn't need to look up, to see the hurt in the two women before her faces, she knew.

"I do. My dad told me tonight, before the dance. That's why I was late picking you up, because I didn't think I could face you after that." His voice was low, and Alice turned to see him leaning against the door frame of her bedroom, looking like he had so many times before, but the hurt in his face pained Alice. He stepped over, sitting beside her on the bed, taking her other hand in his. Without a word, Delores and Grace stood up, stepping softly out of the bedroom, Delores shutting the door behind her as they left.

The hurt of the night finally taking over, Alice collapsed into FP's chest, full of tears and anger. Her fists twisted into the sides of his shirt, as her body shook against his. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head, holding her as his tears fell with hers. She knew they would need to work out the logistics of this, this forced break up. If it was to be believable, that meant they had to convince everyone, including Hermione and Fred, but that could wait. She curled into his side, pulling him back into her bed, back into their safety net, back into their little world of seclusion. They'd hid themselves from the world before, surely, they could do it again.


End file.
